


The Dragon Girl

by TruthandLies



Series: A Collection of Memories [1]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, First Meeting, Isle of the Lost (Disney), Pirates, child!Evie, child!Mal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthandLies/pseuds/TruthandLies
Summary: Evie glimpses her from the windows of a shop, and knows she has to follow. What happens next is a first meeting between soulmates, dangerous and destined for memory.





	The Dragon Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JackEPeace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/gifts).



> Written for JackEPeace / pizza-is-my-buziness (Tumblr), who's awesome and a fantastic writer, and who requested Malvie + skinned knees.

Evie is a collector of scars.

They scrawl themselves across her body, a collection of scratches and scrapes, hinting at secrets of her past.

Like the splintered scratches on her knees. The ones that tell of her first meeting with Mal.

Mal, who once wasn’t Mal at all. Who once was the dragon girl, or the girl with hair as bright as purple moonlight – a color Evie had glimpsed in a book about a girl who lived with dragons, every day an adventure.

Evie’s mama had snatched that book from Evie’s hands. “We do not read stories about dragons, Evelyn. Dragons are wicked creatures not worthy of our time.”

But on the day Evie first saw Mal, she knew: this girl was as wild and free as the girl in that book. 

She knew, too, that Mama had been wrong.

Mal, with her ripped-knee jeans; Mal, who wore a smirk as wild as her hair, was worthy of Evie’s time. 

Everything about Mal promised freedom – something Evie feared she’d never find. Not with her witch of a mama who offered nothing but makeup and lessons in etiquette, who forced Evie into chairs with mirrors, where she practiced fixing “the blemishes on her face,” while staring for hours at Evie, the-confined-to-glass-mirror-girl.

Evie longed to escape. Escape from the makeup and the etiquette and the mirrors.

And here was a dragon-girl, who skipped along the sludge-grey Isle streets, her eyes shining with freedom as fierce as dragon-fire.

Evie had to know her.

So she tiptoed out of the shop, where Mama was flirting with the sales boys for lower prices. And she snuck after the girl.

As she tiptoed, Evie’s greeting danced upon her tongue. At once, it was _Hi, I’m Evie._ And then it twirled and became _I’m Evie. Do you wanna be friends?_ After which, it dipped into _I’m Evie. And I really like your jeans._  
  
None of the greetings seemed especially right, so Evie twisted her mouth and thought of more.

She thought of greeting after greeting as she followed the girl onto the dock, where pirate ships swayed in the grey waters of the Isle sea.

She thought so long, she tripped onto a splintered section of dock. The wood cracked beneath her blue boots, threatening to plunge her into the sea.

Evie gasped and jumped away, her hand springing to cup her wild heartbeat.

The dragon girl whirled. “Are you following me?”

“I – I, um…”  
_  
Dragons are wicked creatures…_ Her mama’s voice snaked through her mind, cold and cruel.

 _No. No, they’re not._ Evie swallowed, pushing her mama’s voice away. “HI! I – I’m Evie.” She tried on a smile, but it wobbled this way and that.

“Smiles don’t work with me.” The girl’s eyes flashed green. A green so heated, so molten, it was like dragon-fire.

Evie gasped and tripped backward. “I’m sorry. I just – I liked your jeans.”

“You liked my jeans.” The words slid slow from her lips.

Evie nodded. “They have tears,” she whispered. “All I have is a dress.” On weak knees, she twirled, showing off her blue-lace gown.

The girl tilted her head. “Hmm.” The fire faded from her eyes, leaving behind a Lucifer’s glint. “You know, I could use your help.”

Evie licked her lips. “M-my help?”

“Mhmm.” The girl nodded. “You want to distract the pirates for me?”

Evie swallowed her heartbeat.

In the world above, where the pirates lived atop their ships, came the sounds of drunken laughter and the clash of swords.

Mama never let Evie come onto the docks, because pirates were _wicked creatures who ate little girls for lunch._

But the girl with the dragon-eyes stared at her unblinking, and Evie knew she meant what she said.

Evie’s hands trembled, so she clasped them to hide their tell-tale shivering. “Those pirates?” Her voice was the squeak of a mouse.

“Yup.” The girl’s smirk widened. “Just those pirates.” She crossed her arms. “You do it, and I’ll trade my jeans for your dress.”

Evie drew back a breath. If she had this girl’s jeans, she could play in the dirt. Run with the other kids. Be Evie-outside-the-castle instead of Evie-stuck-inside-mirrors.

She clutched the fabric of her dress, threading it between her shivering fingers. “Okay.” When she spoke, she pushed her voice out clear. Strong, with just the slightest tremble. “I’ll do it. Just tell me how.”

The girl smiled smug. “All you gotta do,” she said, slipping her arm through Evie’s, “is make sure they don’t see me.”

The girl’s touch was not at all wicked. Or maybe it was wicked all too much. It made Evie warm all over. Made her tingly, too. Made her want to stay her in the shadows of the swaying ship, finding other ways to touch. Maybe she could even hold this girl’s hand.

Dragons might be wicked. But maybe wicked wasn’t such a bad thing.

 _Besides, princesses are supposed to hold dragon’s hands. Right?_ Evie stared at the small claw curled around her arm.

The girl’s gaze tripped there, too. Her eyes flashed wide. A hint of dragon-green crept back in. “Yeah.” She jerked her arm from Evie’s. “So just follow my lead, okay?”

Evie nodded. “Sure.”

“Good.” The girl slipped behind Evie, two tiptoeing steps, and then tilted her purple head at the stairs. “You go first.”

“Go first doing what?”

The girl winked. “Show those pirates how your dress twirls.”

There was mischief in that wink.

There was wicked in that wink.

There was _freedom_ in that wink.

Evie carved her teeth into her lower lip and _tasted_ it. Mama always said not to do business with pirates. Evie’s gaze flicked to the girl’s freedom-jeans. _But Mama never had so much to lose._

Evie’s very own pair of bad-girl-jeans. She could almost feel the denim rough against her skin.

Which was why, when the girl tilted her chin at the ship a second time, Evie drew herself up princess-tall and nodded. She spun on the heel of her polished blue boot and forced herself toward the ship with the laughter and the swords. Forced herself onto the stairs. Forced herself to climb onto the deck.

Forced it all, even as her knees shook and her heart sprinted into her throat.

The clash of swords clanged to a stop. “Well, what have we here?” A pirate lifted his grizzly lips, which were missing a chunk at the corner. “Boys, looks like the schoolhouse has finally decided to deliver.”

Evie’s knees shook so hard, she almost fell to her bottom. She slid her trembling fingers to the skirt of her dress, lifting it just a little. Almost enough to twirl.

“Cut it out, y’ scoundrel.” A peg-leg pirate knocked his sword hilt into the chunkless pirate’s chest. “She can’t be more than eight.”

“Oh, shush. I’m just havin’ some fun.” Chunkless knocked Peg-Leg aside and jumped to his feet. “Well, whatchya doin’ onboard our ship, little darlin’?” He scanned Evie with the eyes of a wolf, lingering for a howl on the pleats of her skirt.

“I…” The words were ghosts in Evie’s graveyard throat. “I, uh…”

“You, uh, what?” A third pirate touches his hook to his face, leering at Evie. “You, uh, decided to make yourself our lunch?”

Chunkless howled.

Peg-Leg snickered.

Evie stumbled backward and tripped onto her knees. Pain bit into her skin. Tears burned her eyes.

And somewhere above came the roar of a dragon.

The dragon girl launched herself from the rafters of the ship, all wild purple hair and flailing arms. “You leave her alone,” she shouted, pushing herself in between Chunkless and Peg-Leg. Her pockets clattering, she spun and stomped her boot heel onto Chunkless’ toes.

The pirate howled and dropped his sword.

Dragon-girl caught the weapon. She fisted it in her hand and pointed the blade at Chunkless’ throat. “Don’t you ever talk to her again.” Her eyes glowing green, she pressed the blade closer, drawing a drop of blood.

Chunkless held up his hands. “I surrender.” He coughed, gurgling on spit. “I surrender, you little demon.”

The girl’s eyes flashed. “I am a demon. And if you ever look at Evie again, I’ll burn you to a Lucifer crisp. And then I’ll eat _you_ for lunch.”

The pain that had bit into Evie’s knees when she fell onto the deck faded, replaced by a warm hum spreading across her skin. 

Mama had been right. Dragons _were_ wicked. And this girl was the wickedest of them all.

Evie kinda wanted to eat _her_ for lunch.

Peg-Leg, who had slipped away during the fight, chuckled and held out a bottle of rum. “I like your sass, little missy. I think I’ll even let you get off this ship with all that stolen loot in your pockets.”

“I ‘ppreciate your kindness.” The girl’s eyes blazing, she held the sword across her chest and dipped into a bow.

Chivalrous. Princely.

Evie stumbled to her feet. Her mama always said one day, she’d find a prince. _But I want a dragon instead._  
  
Peg-Leg waved them off the ship. “Be on your way, then, y’ small scoundrels.”

Evie almost whimpered in relief.

Together with the dragon girl, she backed off the ship, never stopping until they reached the edge of the docks.

There, the dragon girl slid her hands into her weighted pockets and stared at the ground. “You did good. I’m sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t know they…”

“It’s okay.” Evie touched the girl’s arm. 

Something was happening inside Evie’s chest. Something was flickering to life, like a match that had almost gone out but now flared with flame.

She slid her hand down the dragon girl’s arm, slipping her fingers around the girl’s wrist. Everywhere she touched, flickers of heat came to life within her palms. “That was cool. I didn’t know I could be so …”

“Wicked?” The dragon girl arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Evie nodded, a pleased smile curling her lips. “Wicked.” 

It was freedom. To do and be anyone she wanted, no mamas or makeup or mirrors.

“Yeah. I like being wicked, too.” The dragon girl smirked. “Oh. I got you something.” She slid an item crimson and glittery from her pocket. “Thought you’d like it.”

Evie held out her palm.

And the girl dropped the item inside.

A heart.

But not just any heart. This heart gleamed like a princess ruby, shimmering in the half-lit sunshine. All it needed to be truly royal was a crown.

Evie folded her fingers around the treasure, keeping it safe. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” The girl scuffed the toe of her boot against the dock, looking anywhere but at Evie. Her gaze flicked from the ground to the ships and finally to Evie’s boots. “Oh,” she said, the word a gasp. “You skinned your knees.”

“What?”

“Your knees,” she said, frowning at Evie’s legs. “They’re bleeding.”

She was right. Evie’s knees were speckled with droplets of blood and shredded skin.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Somehow, with the dragon girl’s heart in her hand, there was no pain. There was only warmth. 

The warmth of the heart. The warmth of the dragon girl’s eyes, blazing now not with dragon-fire but with something else; something more.

And the warmth of the dragon girl’s fingers as she dropped onto her own knees and wiped away Evie’s blood. “There,” she said, swiping the blood onto her jeans.

“Thank you,” Evie whispered for a second time, the word caught within her throat.

The jeans were tarnished now. Stained with her own blood. Consecrated with Evie’s first wicked deed.

Her knees were tarnished, too.

She didn’t care.

All that mattered in this moment was the dragon girl, who gazed at Evie through eyes so green and deep, they called forth a world of silence.

Evie could fall into this silence.

She could fall into the dragon girl’s eyes.

They both made her heart soar. But they also made her skin prickle, her stomach twist. Her heart thunder and thump.

She had to fill that silence, before it ate her alive. “Um…” She bit her lip and glanced down at the girl’s jeans. “I thought if I helped, I’d get your jeans?” Because even jeans consecrated with blood were also consecrated with freedom.

The girl frowned. “But then what am I gonna wear?”

Evie’s fingers fluttered to the hem of her skirt. “You can have my princess dress.” She lifted the skirt and twirled. “Then you can be a princess, too.”

Something changed in the dragon girl’s eyes. Splinters of gold streaked through the green. “I’ve never had a dress before.”

She said it the way she might have said _I’ve never been a princess before._ Or _No one’s ever given me a gift._  
  
Evie dropped her skirt and took the girl’s hand. It was tiny and oh-so-warm. “Well, you can have one now. And,” she said, steadying herself with a breath, “a friend, too. If you want.”

“I’ve never had one of those, either.”

Evie squeezed her hand. “Well, you’ve got one now.”

The girl held onto Evie’s gaze, a rainbow of emotion flickering through the warm emerald of her eyes. “My name’s Mal.”

“Mal.” The name was delicate on Evie’s tongue, tasting of fairy dust and dragon wings. “Mal. I like it.”

Mal’s face flared red. She dropped her gaze and shuffled her boot against the dock. “Come on, then.” She tugged Evie back into the shadows, where the breeze striking the grey ocean struck their skin as well.

Her arms speckled with goose bumps, Evie slid from her dress, leaving herself clothed only in her underwear.

Mal shivered in the wind and emptied her pockets onto the dock, decorating the wood with pencils and brushes and tiny bottles of paint. “One of the pirates likes to draw,” she said, slipping from her shirt and sliding from her jeans. “I do, too.”

Evie smiled. Fantasies of Mal’s drawings danced through her mind. In that moment, she was sure they offered pathways into secret worlds full of wicked creatures and wild magic. “I’d like to see sometime.”

Mal shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” The words were dismissive, but Mal’s cheeks burned redder.

Wicked-and-wild heartbeats later, Evie stood on the dock in her very own pair of bad-girl-jeans. She slid her fingers over the rough material, grinning at the feel of it beneath her skin.

A few feet away, Mal lifted her skirt in her first-ever-princess twirl. The wind lifted the dress, carrying it higher. Mal gasped and threw out her arms, spinning fast-fast-faster, until her gasps turned into giggles, turned into laughter. She pranced about, her eyes glowing with a green-not-dragon, but proud-princess, her laughter dancing through a world no longer grey, but shimmering with the promise of color.

Finally, when Mal stopped twirling, she met Evie in the half-sunlit shadows, wearing the smile of royalty. “Here,” she said, holding up her pinkie.

Evie’s breath caught. A pinkie promise. Mal was gonna make the most sacred of vows.

She lifted her pinkie, too, and tangled it with Mal’s. “What do you vow, Princess Mal?”

Mal claimed Evie’s gaze with her eyes of golden-sunburst. “I vow that after today, we will always be friends. And that any time I’m going to steal from a pirate ship, I’ll ask you to help.”

Evie grinned a grin so wide, she felt it in her cheeks. _The best kind of promise._ Friendship and more wickedness. “Deal.” She shook Mal’s pinkie.

And then she slid her hand into the pocket of her new jeans and fingered the ruby heart. A friend and a gift.

Years later, Evie would remember this day every time she glanced at her knees. 

The wounds on her knees would never completely heal.

But then, this moment with Mal would never completely fade.

They were both a part of her. A collection of memories.


End file.
